


the trouble with secrets

by yanak324



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Avoidance, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Introspection, Love Confessions, New Years Eve party, Other Confessions, POV Arya Stark, Too Much Drinking, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, being in love with your best friend isn't easy, secret keeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:33:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21796156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yanak324/pseuds/yanak324
Summary: There a few facts Arya Stark knows to be true about herself. She's stubborn. She's brave, sometimes to a fault. She rarely gets nervous.Oh, and she’s absolutely, irrevocably in love with her best friend, which she was content to keep to herself for the rest of her life, until that stupid e-mail.Based on the Gendrya Gift Exchange prompt: when she has too much to drink at a New Year’s Eve party, Arya lets a secret slip which Gendry wasn’t supposed to know.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Mentions of Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell, mentions of Renly Baratheon/Loras Tyrell
Comments: 54
Kudos: 284
Collections: Gendrya Gift Exchange 2019





	the trouble with secrets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [forge-heat (Michdelish)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michdelish/gifts).



> My second GGE submission, this time for the lovely Mish! Thank you for organizing such an awesome event and I really hope you like what I came up with for ya. Characters don't belong to me. Enjoy!!

There are a few facts that Arya Stark knows to be true about herself. 

She’s stubborn. 

She’s brave, sometimes to a fault. 

She gets outrageously cranky if she doesn’t have at least two cups of coffee in the morning.  
`  
And she never, ever gets nervous. 

Oh, and she’s absolutely, irrevocably in love with her best friend, which she was content to keep to herself for the rest of her life, until that stupid e-mail.

An e-mail that’s challenged not only her notions about the future but also about herself. 

Because for the first time in her life, Arya Stark is uncomfortably nervous and scared shitless. 

And she has not a clue what to do about it. 

xxx 

“Here.” 

Sansa’s voice pulls Arya right back into the middle of the Tyrells’ living room. 

The sudden onslaught of sounds, sights, and smells catches her off guard.

Realizing she hasn’t actually acknowledged her sister or the drink she’s extended in her direction, Arya musters up a smile and accepts the plastic cup filled with berry colored liquid.

“Thanks.” 

She turns back to face whatever she’d been looking at before she zoned out, but it’s the wrong thing to do. 

Because what she’d been staring at is the very subject of her inner turmoil – Gendry Waters.

And of course, he looks like a goddamn snack and a half. 

The annual Tyrell New Year’s Eve party was already in full swing by the time Arya had arrived.

Normally she and Gendry would come together, because, well they did everything together. 

But after a week of dodging his calls and avoiding his texts and bailing on all their plans with Hot Pie and otherwise, Gendry didn’t even bother offering to pick her up and just told her he’d see her there…if she decided to come. 

And because she was a bloody coward, she’d done her very best to avoid him since she arrived. 

It’s been quite easy to do so given that Theon is currently talking Gendry’s ear off about something or other. 

Her adoptive brother is blissfully unaware that their conversation is completely one-sided and continues only because Gendry is too polite to tell Theon to fuck off. 

He’s not above scanning the room in boredom, however, and that’s how he’d spotted her when she first walked in. 

The way his handsome face lit up in recognition and then dissolved into what can only be described as contentment hit Arya somewhere deep down – much as it’s been doing lately. 

That paired with the way Gendry looked so devastatingly handsome in the dark blue sweater and slacks – a departure from his regular band tees and hoodies – made her stomach lurch.

It also brought other less thrilling feelings to the surface. Like the fact that she was now keeping two big secrets from the person who is closest to her.

It made Arya want to run and hide. 

“So, did you tell him about it?” 

Arya almost forgets Sansa is still standing next to her. 

“Tell who about what?” 

“Gendry, about the job in Winterfell.” 

“Oh, that. No, not yet, but I will.” 

For a moment, Arya thinks Sansa might be referring to the other, much bigger secret that she’s been keeping from her best friend. 

But even with her observant nature, there’s no way Sansa would know about her feelings for Gendry.

Would she? 

Theon chooses that exact moment to finally say something worthy of Gendry’s amusement, and the latter lets out a laugh. His eyes crinkle in the corners like they’re known to when he’s smiling and Arya feels another tug on her heart. 

Ugh. 

She takes a bigger gulp from the plastic cup, draining nearly half of it and grimacing against the sweet and bitter tang. 

Gendry’s eyes land on hers and he raises his eyebrow in question, likely having spotted her chugging half her drink in one pull. She knows she has to get out of here before he extricates himself from Theon and comes over to her. 

“Hey, is anyone pouring shots around here? Can’t handle this girly shit.”

Sansa looks suspiciously at her but chooses not to follow through with whatever is on her mind. 

“Yeah, Marg is pouring tequila shots in the kitchen.” 

“Perfect.”

And that’s how it starts.

xxx

Arya has the same mixed feelings about tequila as she does about Margaery Tyrell, but at the moment, she thinks both are winning her over.

The hostess of the evening currently stands to Arya’s right, slicing up limes at an alarmingly quick rate and promptly distributing the green wedges to the steady stream of guests filtering into the kitchen. 

Margaery chats with each person as she pours them a shot, asking about this or that; always a pointed question and a smile thrown in their direction. 

Some are coworkers of hers, others are random people she’s met through one walk of life or another. They all seem to genuinely enjoy talking to her, their faces alight and almost a little bashful. 

Typically, this effect Margaery has on people would irritate the fuck out of Arya. But whether it’s the tequila or the refuge her sister’s best friend has inadvertently provided, Arya almost finds the other woman charming. 

Charming in a way that Arya doesn’t think she could ever be – not that anyone expects her to. 

The thought gives her pause, pushing an image into her head of someone equally as surly as her and making her frown again. It doesn’t go unnoticed. 

“What’s on your mind, love? You look like you’ve sucked down an entire lime.” 

There’s a break in the crowd and Margaery takes the opportunity to pause her slicing and turn her attention to Arya. 

If Sansa is shrewd, then Margaery has downright x-ray vision when it comes to seeing through people’s bullshit.

But Arya refuses to budge. 

“Nothing really.” 

It’s not a downright lie but it’s not the truth either. 

“You sure?” 

Arya opens her mouth to respond, to tell Margaery that she’s seriously fine and she can stop looking at her with that faint disbelief, when out of the corner of her eye, she sees Gendry walk into the kitchen. 

And try as she might, Arya can’t stop her gaze from gravitating towards him. 

He’s always had that magnetic pull on her. Avoiding him hasn’t changed that very much. 

She’s not quick enough to conceal her reaction from Margaery, and the other woman follows her line of sight quickly to where Gendry’s standing.

The kitchen is crowded enough that he hasn’t spotted her yet, but it’s enough for Margaery to turn back to her, face full of recognition. 

“Oh, I see.” 

Arya has known Margaery for long enough to know when an interrogation is coming, so she swipes the half full bottle of tequila from where it stands by the cutting board.

“You see nothing,” Arya raises her own eyebrow in challenge, hoping the woman doesn’t prod her more. 

Surprisingly, Margaery just shrugs in amusement. 

“You know keeping things in doesn’t just cause frown lines, it also messes with your insides.” 

She taps a red tipped fingernail against her own chest, right where her heart is. 

Arya desperately wants to roll her eyes, because of course her sister’s best friend and occasional make out buddy would say that.

But then she sees that familiar head of dark hair advancing towards them through the crowd and her priority becomes getting the fuck out before Gendry can reach her. 

“Tequila cures all ails, Marg, or didn’t _you_ know?” 

She spins on her heel and ducks into the corridor, trying not to shiver as she feels the weight of Gendry’s eyes on her retreating back.

xxx 

In the six years she’s lived in King’s Landing, Arya has been to Margaery and Loras’ house over a hundred times. 

Her favorite part is the back patio. It’s quiet, there are comfy chairs, and on a particularly clear night, you can see the constellations like they’re in the palm of your hand. 

It’s exactly what she needs right now, especially as it inches closer and closer to midnight. 

The tequila has now seemingly made its way through her entire system, settling low in her belly and making her legs feel heavy. 

What she doesn’t account for is a hand darting out and pulling her into one of the rooms off the corridor before she can make it outside. 

“Oh perfect! I need you, Stark.” 

The alcohol makes her hazy enough that it doesn’t immediately register that she’s been yanked into the den by none other than Gendry’s uncle, Renly. 

Squinting against the brightness of the room, she takes in the long wooden table with red Solo cups lined up on each end in a formation that can only suggest beer pong. 

“My lovely boyfriend decided to jump ship and I need a partner.” 

On the other end of the table, Loras winks at them while whispering something into the ear of a man Arya doesn’t recognize. She shoots Renly a confused look and he smirks. 

“That’s one of Marg’s coworkers. His previous partner passed out –“ Renly gestures to a guy currently slumped over the side of the only couch in the room.

“So, you in?”

Arya is quite aware she still hasn’t said anything. She must be drunker than she thought. So maybe bringing beer into the mix isn’t the best idea, but she finds herself setting the tequila bottle on the floor and approaching the table.

“Yeah, sure, why not.” 

“Awesome.” 

Renly grins and hands her a ping pong ball. 

It becomes pretty clear that she’s too drunk to play, losing in four consecutive rounds when she’d normally be slaying this game. 

Renly must be drunk as well, because he’d be the first to rib her for being so off-kilter, but instead he just shoves a cup of water into her hands and drinks her portion of beer. 

“You alright, Stark?” he asks when she’s done draining the cup, which helps wash the taste of yeast from her tongue but does nothing to quell her slight dizziness. 

“Yeah m’fine.” She mumbles, wiping the side of her mouth with the back of her hand. 

Renly doesn’t appear to be convinced. 

“Ah, I thought you’d be in some dark corner with my dear old nephew. You’re usually attached at the hip at these things, and well everywhere else too.” 

“Gendry’s around here somewhere.” 

She tries to affect an air of nonchalance, but Renly is still looking at her like he doesn’t completely believe her. 

She’s about to reply with something more substantial, something more convincing when she feels a vibration against her hip. 

She takes advantage of the distraction, extricating her phone from her jean pocket, but her stomach lurches even more when she sees the text notification on the screen. 

**Gendry:** _are you gonna let me wish you a happy new year at least? Or do you plan to hide from me all night?_

And then she just feels bad. 

Feels bad for everything. 

For avoiding him for days now, for flaking on their weekly lunch date, for rescheduling their movie night, for bailing on drinks with him and Hot Pie the night before. 

For dodging his texts since that e-mail forced her to confront the possibility that she might not live in the same place as Gendry for the first time in years.

Arya hadn’t expected to feel quite so disappointed by that. 

After all, the wildlife rehabilitation job in Winterfell had been her top choice. 

In fact, she’d wanted it so badly, she’d applied in secret, telling nobody – not even Gendry – because there’s no way she would get it. Now that she had, all the excitement she might have felt was suddenly shrouded in stupid feelings. 

It had been an adjustment moving to King’s Landing in the first place, but it was the right choice for her education and she would have Sansa nearby. 

But it hadn’t truly felt like home until she’d gotten to know that surly boy in uni, who always parked himself in the furthest corner of the library and scowled at anyone who would pass by. 

The same boy who had become a permanent fixture in her life. 

Not because they shared the same classes – he was a senior when she was a freshman. Or because he happened to be the formerly unacknowledged son of her father’s best friend, which she found out much, much later. 

But because they had a genuine interest in the same things and in each other.

It’s always been them, together, against the world. 

In the five years they’ve been close friends, Gendry had never once failed to have her back, and she had always tried to do the same for him.

And that, more than anything, suddenly makes her insides twist with guilt. Instead of chugging more beer, or reaching for tequila, Arya types out a quick response before shoving her phone back in her pocket. 

“Speak of the devil,” she explains to Renly’s raised eyebrow and confused expression.

“Gonna go find him. Think you can finish the game without me?” she asks, nodding towards the two cups left on their side.

Renly smirks and then rolls his eyes.

“Yes, I think I can manage, Stark. Go get your boy.” 

“He’s not-“

She opens her mouth to correct him, but apparently she’d been wrong about how much Renly actually noticed, because he gives her one of his famous ‘don’t bullshit me’ look and it reminds her so much of Gendry that she gives up.

“Never mind. Have fun losing, Baratheon.” 

Her phone vibrates against her hip again as she walks out of the room, but she doesn’t bother checking it.

She’s certain Gendry will have no trouble finding her. 

**Arya:** _I’ll be in my favorite spot but fair warning, I may turn into a pumpkin after midnight, so you better hurry._

xxx

The patio is silent, save for the indistinct chatter emanating from inside the house. 

The air is crisp and chilly, which explains why she’s the only one foolish enough to be outside right now. 

The wind feels refreshing though, likely due to the amount of alcohol she’s ingested. 

Arya still tugs the sleeves of her sweater over her knuckles as she leans against the railing and gazes into the garden.

It’s not even a clear night, so she can barely make out any stars through the opaque canopy of the sky. Or maybe it’s just the booze making her vision hazy again. 

She doesn’t have much time to contemplate the cause as a few moments later she hears the distinct sound of footsteps.

She doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is. Even without the heavy weight of his eyes on her, she could pick Gendry’s gait out of a thousand others. 

She turns anyway, because she’s been running away from him all night, all week if she’s to be exact, and Gendry deserves better than that. 

He stops a few feet away from her, not approaching or infringing on her space. 

His hands are jammed in his pockets, and he’s peering at the floor. 

Arya instantly frowns, hating that she has made him so insecure around her. 

It makes her want to stalk towards him and pull him into a hug, but she stays rooted to the ground, hands now balled into even tighter fists as she leans back against the railing.

“Hey.” 

By way of greetings, it’s not necessarily the worst, but it feels somehow lacking given the current circumstances.

“Hi.” 

His voice alone suggests confusion and hurt, making her heart stammer wildly in her chest as panic seeps in. She takes a gulp of air, hoping it’ll calm her down, but it doesn’t. 

She must not be very good at hiding her anxiety, because Gendry gives her that look, the one that suggests he knows she’s being evasive for some reason.

He glances down at his watch for a second, before addressing her again.

“You’ve got about 12 minutes until you turn into a pumpkin,” he says carefully, “want to tell me what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing is wrong.” 

It’s almost a force of habit by this point, but unlike everyone else tonight, Gendry doesn’t buy it. 

“Is that why you were guzzling tequila like your life depended on it earlier?” 

“I wasn’t –“

This time, she shuts up before the lie completely spills from her lips. Gendry’s face softens from amusement to concern in ten seconds flat.

He moves closer, stepping into the sliver of light that makes his eyes suddenly stand out like crystal beacons. They call to her, pushing the desire to avoid, to evade completely out the window. 

“You don’t drink like that, so I was worried, is all.” 

And Gods, all she can think about, all she can see, are his damn eyes filled with unwarranted concern. 

She decides to just throw caution to the wind.

Because it’s Gendry here in front of her, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy – a very hot kicked puppy – 

Gendry, who gave her space today but still watched her like a hawk.

Gendry, who has always been there. 

The first person she thinks about when she wakes up, and the last person she talks to before she goes to bed. 

The first person she wants to tell a stupid joke to, and the first person she calls when she’s in trouble. 

And she knows it’s the same for him, can think of numerous examples over the years when he’s sought her out, when he’s relied on her. 

Arya suddenly feels incredibly stupid for wasting time avoiding him, running away from the only person who has completely and truly accepted her. Who asks for nothing in return except the pleasure of her company. 

Someone who she knows will be overjoyed at learning that she landed her dream job. 

Feeling complete and total clarity for the first time tonight, Arya decides to finally share her incredible news with her best friend. 

But it seems like her head and heart aren’t completely aligned, because that’s not the truth that comes out. 

“I like you.” 

Her cheeks heat up instantly.

She wants to correct herself, or say something else, but she feels completely paralyzed. 

Shocked at both how easily the words came out, and how oddly enough she’s neither nervous nor afraid in the aftermath.

More stunned than anything by the fact that the confession is finally out there. 

Then Gendry just smiles at her, still so obviously confused, but trying to hide it for her sake. 

“Arya, I like you too but-…”

“No,” She pushes off the railing and is the one to take a step forward this time, “I mean, I _like_ you.”

They’re close enough now that she can see the immediate shift of his expression, face growing serious as realization dawns.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” 

And ah, she’s really botching this, isn’t she? 

What with how sad and uncertain Gendry sounds.

She’s shaking her head faster than the words can form in her head. 

“No, oh my Gods, no.” 

It suddenly becomes imperative that she tell him the truth, the whole truth. No more secrets. 

“I’ve felt this way for so long, we wouldn’t be friends if I avoided you because of it. No, it’s just that I applied for this job and I thought I wouldn’t get it, but then I did, and it’s not here, it’s in Winterfell, and so far away, and I just didn’t know how to tell you and I-…”

But she doesn’t get to finish her sentence, doesn’t get to keep rambling nonsense. Gendry is suddenly in front of her, piercing gaze so close; strong hands unfurling from his pockets like he’s about to lurch forward. 

His voice is barely above a whisper but she hears him loud and clear.

“You’ve had feelings for me?” 

It’s so like him to completely ignore the other big thing she’s said and fixate on the one that makes her stomach clench and her heart flutter. 

Arya feels herself shutting up again as she bites the inside of her cheek, and nods without looking away. 

She’s not sure what she’s expecting, but when she feels Gendry reaches out to cradle the back of her head and a second later, his lips descend on hers, everything else falls by the wayside. 

She goes with it, fisting the soft material of his sweater as she kisses him with a lot more fervor than she expected of herself. 

His mouth is soft, if insistent, and his tongue leaves little wisps of heat as it runs across her bottom lip, sending the feeling all the way down to her toes.

She feels weightless, warm, anchored only by the feel of Gendry’s lips and his touch as it glides from the back of her neck to her waist.

As first kisses go, it’s pretty damn epic. 

Even through the haze of alcohol, Arya knows deep in her bones that first kisses aren’t supposed to feel this right, this natural. 

She wants to soak it all in, wants to commit to memory how Gendry tastes and how he smells and how he feels. 

The one thing running in parallel to everything else is the realization that this could very well be her last first kiss, and she would be completely fine with that. 

That thought makes her smile right into his mouth. 

Gendry’s lips still against hers and then he’s pulling back to look at her, the warmth and affection she encounters prompts Arya to lean forward again.

He lets her come to him this time, slanting his lips over hers as she presses into him, her own tongue now darting out to taste him. 

This kiss is cut short when a loud cheer erupts from inside the house. 

There are fireworks in the distance and whistles coming from somewhere else. But, all Arya can register is the breathy sound of Gendry’s chuckle against her ear, and then the way his shoulders start to shake as his laughter grows. 

“What is so funny?” she asks without looking up, still using him to steady her breath and calm the sudden lightness, the euphoria from her head. One that has absolutely nothing to do with the half a bottle of tequila she’s had tonight and two pints worth of shitty beer. 

Gendry doesn’t say anything, just continues laughing. The warm, cozy feeling that leaves her breathless and lightheaded quickly morphs into annoyance that only the man in front of her can inspire. 

“Seriously?” She huffs at him, and it’s then that Gendry takes her seriously.

“I’m sorry, it’s just funny because if you wouldn’t have been dodging my calls and texts this past week, you’d have known that I finally heard back from that firm I applied to ages ago, the one based in Moat Caitlin…” 

His voice trails off but Arya doesn’t actually need him to say anything else. She understands immediately why he’s laughing. While she herself isn’t sure if she wants to laugh or cry, the relief she feels is palpable. 

It’s like that tight wire she’s been walking for days has finally snapped. But instead of falling into the abyss, she’s dropped down to steady ground.

Moat Caitlin is not Winterfell but it’s not a thousand miles away from it either. 

It’s within driving distance at least and if Gendry’s telling her this – 

Maybe later, she’ll think that this is too easy, that life truly can’t be _that_ simple, but right now, it feels like it is. 

It feels like she can let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding.

Before she can stop herself, Arya steps back into Gendry’s arms and winds her hands around his neck, pulling him into their third kiss. 

When he eventually pulls away, neither of them is laughing. They just stare silently at each other; his hand steady on her hip, her thumb rubbing back and forth across his neck. 

Something about this quiet moment makes Arya’s heart expand tenfold. 

“I was so stupid, avoiding you like that. I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” 

Gendry reaches up to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. 

The gesture is so soft, so intimate, and yet so completely natural, Arya almost loses herself in it.

Almost misses what he says next. 

“But please be nicer to the girl I’m in love with. I don’t think she’s stupid at all.” 

And because Gendry is still a little bit of a shit like her, he can’t help but tack on,

“Well, most of the time.” 

But Arya is still too busy processing what he just said to care about the dig. 

Despite the intensity of their kiss, Gendry’s words still catch her off guard. Still make her breath cease in her throat and her stomach fill up with what feels like a million butterflies. 

She knows that they have a lot to figure out. 

That they need to do what’s smart for them as individuals as much as for whatever this might lead to. 

But right now, all she can truly comprehend is that the man she’s loved for a lot longer than she’s willing to admit has just admitted that he’s in love with her.

And that seems to be the only thing worthy of losing her mind over at the moment. 

Gendry seems to think so too, because he’s already leaning down when she reaches for him.

Then he’s smiling against her mouth, lips warm as he takes just a second to whisper “happy new year, Arya” before pulling her into their fourth kiss.

It’s Arya’s turn to laugh, because despite not having a drink for at least a half hour, she feels absolutely drunk off this man.

And she can’t help but catch herself thinking about a time when she’ll lose count of how many kisses they exchange.

Or maybe she’ll continue to tally them up silently to herself, collecting them like secrets that she doesn’t need to share with anyone other than Gendry. 

Just the two of them, together, like it’s always been. 

xxx


End file.
